A man without a party, he
Knows nought of obligation
To any friend; but, fancy free.
He represents the nation.
In lonely majesty he sits
To give the Opposition fits,
Or rend the Government to bits
With fierce vituperation.
Of all he is most wise, most free,
Most pure, and - inter alia
Shorn of responsibility,
He speaks for all Australia.
Tho' parties rise or parties fall,
What cares he? He's 'Agin 'em all.'
Sole patriot, clad, at Freedom's call,
In Liberty's regalia.
All, saving him, are out of tune
When the lone wolf is howling.
He lifts his head and bays the moon
With fierce, but futile growling.
And, tho' the Opposition squirms
And Ministers would sue for terms,
He knows them all for loathy worms,
Despite the Speaker's scowling.
At Canberra he's as free as air
So say the press recorders.
He knows no man as master there
Within its sylvan borders.
And so, tho' members fret and frown,
He scarcely ever need sit down
Except to write to Sydney town
To Mister Lang, for orders.